


Jailbreak

by centaury_squill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Snarry-A-Thon20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaury_squill/pseuds/centaury_squill
Summary: Kingsley Shacklebolt is the interim Minister of Magic and is pressured by the wizarding community to hold someone, any death eater will do, accountable. With most of Voldemort's followers either dead or in hiding, Shacklebolt bows to pressure from the masses and orders a critically injured Snape incarcerated in Azkaban, promising Harry that when things die down, Snape will be exonerated. Harry vows to do whatever it takes to pay his and the wizarding community's debt to Snape, whether they agree with him or not, even if it means staging an explosive jail break and caring for Severus himself.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 30
Kudos: 169
Collections: Snarry_a_Thon20





	Jailbreak

**Author's Note:**

> The sex scene was filched (with slight amendments) from a 2009 fic of mine.

"You've done WHAT?!" Harry shouted angrily, thumping Kingsley Shacklebolt's desk with his fist for emphasis.

Kingsley reflexively leaned back, alarmed by the look in Harry's eyes. There was no denying that Potter had become rather unpredictable of late. Understandable after all he'd been through, of course, but still -

"Public opinion demanded it," he said stiffly. "It was felt that we at the Ministry of Magic had to be seen to be holding a Death Eater to account."

"But Snape? He was on OUR side, dammit!"

"Not many people are aware of that, I'm afraid."

"Then they should be!" Harry raged. "Snape was _injured_ in our cause. He ought to be in St Mungo's, not Azkaban. It's just as well the Dementors have been removed from there, he'd be dead within days -" Harry paused, alerted by the look on Shacklebolt's face. He leaned forward. "Minister, please tell me the Dementors aren't still in place."

Kingsley coughed. "They _are_ being phased out, Harry - the ultimate aim is, of course, to dispense with Dementor guards entirely. But in the meantime -" He hesitated.

"In the meantime you have them guarding Snape's cell." Harry's voice was dangerously quiet.

Kingsley spread his hands, palms upward. "Public opinion -"

Harry was tempted to tell Kingsley exactly what he thought of the opinion of the public, and weak-spirited Ministers for Magic who gave in to it. Restraining himself with difficulty, he said merely, "Is he getting any medical attention at all?"

"A Healer from St Mungo's visits him daily," Kingsley assured him. "Harry, it won't be forever. Memories are short, even in the wizarding community. Once public outrage dies down, the Ministry can quietly arrange for Snape's complete exoneration and release from Azkaban."

He looked warily at Harry, half expecting another outburst, but Harry took it remarkably calmly, just saying "Very well, Minister. But you haven't heard the last of this" as he left the office.

Kingsley wasn't to know that something he'd said had given Harry an idea...

~ * ~

"What is it about the job of Minister for Magic?" Harry snarled, slamming his pint down on the pub table. "I swear he was turning into Cornelius Fudge right in front of me! I'd thought better of Kingsley Shacklebolt."

He'd just finished an account of his visit to Kingsley's office to his friends Ron, Hermione and Neville, at a hastily-called meeting in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Kingsley does have a very difficult job," Hermione said reasonably. "He's under immense pressure from wizards who've suffered under Voldemort to punish his Death Eaters - and yes, Harry, I agree making Snape the scapegoat is completely unfair - but he's the only one of Voldemort's followers they could lay their hands on."

"An easy target," Harry said bitterly. "Nearly dead from Nagini's bite." He looked across the table at Neville. "And that's one reason I asked you here, Neville. You being an Apprentice Healer at St Mungo's."

Neville looked bewildered. "I _might_ be able to treat magical snake bites," he said slowly, "but the authorities would never let me in to Azkaban to see Professor Snape."

"No, but a Healer is visiting Snape every day," Harry said. "Maybe you could have a word with them, see if they'd help -" He broke off; Neville was shaking his head.

"I'm afraid not, Harry," he said. "I think I know who that Healer must be, Healer Smethwyck, and he's a stickler for the rules. He'd never help break Snape out of Azkaban - that's what you're hoping to do, isn't it?"

Harry didn't seem worried. "Okay, then. Time for Plan B." And he leaned forward across the table and began to talk earnestly, persuasively, in a very low voice.

~ * ~

Snape is trapped in an eternal present of bad memories. James Potter and Sirius Black, bullying him at school. Lily Evans, rejecting his friendship because of his obsession with the Dark Arts. Lily's death. The things he sees, things he does, under Voldemort's rule, in order to maintain his cover.

Nagini's bite; Harry Potter's green eyes looking steadily into his own as he loses consciousness. 

But there's a bright glimmer of hope in this last memory, and the Dementors soon suck it out of him.

~ * ~

"There," Hermione said, giving the potion a final stir, "all we need now is a hair from Healer Smethwyck."

Harry scooped up a ladleful and let it drip slowly back into the cauldron. "Neville's getting that now," he said, eyes fixed on the muddy drops of potion.

"I'm still worried about your plan, though," Hermione told Harry earnestly. "Suppose the Healer turns up at Azkaban while you're still there, and sees you Polyjuiced as him?”

"He won't," Harry said confidently. "He'll be locked up in a broom cupboard or something while I'm at Azkaban."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. shocked. "Getting a hair is one thing, but this could lose Neville his job."

"That's why he won't be doing it," Harry said. 

"Then who -" Hermione broke off as realisation struck. She glared at Harry. "Ron? You've asked _Ron_ to risk Azkaban for you?"

"He volunteered," Harry said. "And anyway, it won't come to that. A swift Memory Charm and Healer Smethwyck won't remember a thing."

"Ron's rubbish at Memory Charms," Hermione said crossly. "I suppose I'll have to do that bit. And you needn't look so smug, Harry. I expect you counted on me helping Ron all along, didn't you?

Harry was saved from having to reply by Neville, who burst in at this moment, triumphantly waving a long black hair.

"Got one!" he announced. "It wasn't easy, though. I had to break into his locker in the end, and take it from his comb."

"Better hope he didn't lend his comb to anyone," Harry said. "I'd look pretty silly turning into the St Mungo's cleaning lady or somebody."

"No, it's his all right," Neville said confidently, holding the hair over the cauldron. "I'll just pop it in, shall I?"

"Hang on," said Harry. "Wait till Ron gets here with the Portkey."

"Is that how the Healer travels to Azkaban?" asked Hermione.

"By Portkey, yeah," Harry said. "There and back, at specified times. Neville found that out for us." He smiled at Neville, who smiled nervously back.

"Hope Ron gets here soon," Harry went on, "We don't want Snape to be held in Azkaban a moment longer than we can help; I hate to think what he must be going through..."

~ * ~

The dark memories are coming thick and fast now, so thick and fast that Snape can barely breathe.

He's hearing the news of Lily's death; he's on the floor in front of Lord Voldemort, racked by the Cruciatus curse; he's on top of the Astronomy tower, seeing Albus Dumbledore fall to his Avada Kedavra.

He's hanging upside down in mid air, his robes around his ears, James Potter on the ground below jeering up at him. But, unlike what actually happened at Hogwarts all those years ago, no Lily Evans comes to his aid.

"Who wants to see me Vanish old Snivellus' underpants?" Potter shouts gleefully.

There's a chorus of cheers; Snape can hear Sirius Black shouting "Get 'em off him, mate! Show us his cock!"

Then a new voice breaks in, drowning out the salacious whoops of the crowd:

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!!"

\- and immediately Snape was back in his cell, mind mercifully freed from all dark memories, staring in wonder at a gigantic silver stag.

~ * ~

"So how did it go?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"Fine," said Harry. "We both got out of there using the Portkey - thanks for bewitching it to come here to Grimmauld Place instead of St Mungo's, by the way."

"No problem," said Hermione, but she still looked anxious. "And how is -?"

"Snape? About what you'd expect. He's upstairs in bed; Neville's with him, treating his bites. And how about you? How did things go at St Mungo's?"

"Oh, okay. I modified Healer Smethwyck's memory so he thinks he's on holiday - the last I saw of him he was catching the Knight Bus."

"Great!" Harry said heartily. "I knew we could rely on you, Hermione."

Hermione ignored this. "And before you ask, Ron's still at St Mungo's," she went on. "He said he wanted to get hold of Healer Smethwyck's notes on Snape's treatment." She sighed. "I told him not to risk it - I'm sure Neville is quite capable of working things out. and if he gets stuck, Snape himself could tell us what treatment he needs. But you know Ron: he can be as stubborn as Hagrid, sometimes. Anyway, you haven't told me what happened when you got to Azkaban. Did Snape recognise you, in spite of the Polyjuice?"

"He recognised my Patronus," Harry told her. "The Dementors had really got to him, you could tell, so I had to cast it. And then -"

But at this point he was interrupted by Ron, who came in brandishing a scroll of parchment.

"Got it!" Ron announced. "Full notes on Snape's treatment, including recipes for the potions he's been taking."

"I hope you didn't just take that, Ron," Hermione said, "he's bound to notice."

"'Course not," Ron said indignantly. "What do you take me for? I used that spell you told me about once, the one for duplicating things."

"Geminio?"

"Yeah, that's the one." He looked round. "Where's Neville? I should give this to him, really."

"He's upstairs with Snape," Harry said. "Take it on up, I've put Snape in Regulus Black's old room. I thought he'd feel more at home there, with all the Slytherin wall hangings and stuff."

"Er, can't you take it?" Ron held the parchment out to Harry, who laughed.

"Not still scared of him, are you?"

Ron shook his head, but all the same he continued to hold out the parchment.

Harry took it, and grinned. "Okay, I'll go."

~ * ~

Snape was predictably dismissive of Healer Smethwyck's potions; borrowing Harry's wand, he tapped it three times on the parchment and muttered something under his breath. Amendments to the potions immediately appeared in Snape's tiny, cramped handwriting. He held the parchment out to Neville, who took it and headed for the door.

"I'll get Hermione to make these," he said as he left.

"Just as well," Snape murmured, idly stroking Harry's wand and making no move to give it back. "I wouldn't want to take any potions of Longbottom's brewing."

"He _is_ better at them nowadays," Harry said fairly. "Specially now he's an Apprentice Healer at St Mungo's."

Snape said nothing; his long fingers continued to caress Harry's wand. 

"Should we be brewing a potion against the aftereffects of the Dementors, as well?" asked Harry. "I know I gave you chocolate, but -"

"I didn't have too many good memories for them to feed on," interrupted Snape, turning his face away, not wanting to see pity in Harry's face.

Harry seemed to sense this, for he said lightly, "Well, let's get you fixed up, then you can create some good memories to treat those Dementors with, the next time you're unjustly banged up in Azkaban."

Snape barked a short, surprised laugh. For a moment he almost sounded like Sirius.

Harry hesitated, then reached into an inner pocket. "Talking of memories..." He produced a small flask and held it out to Snape. "The memories you gave me when Nagini - you know," he said awkwardly. "I've kept them safe."

Snape stared at the flask but made no move to take it.

"I did wonder about showing them to the Wizengamot to prove your innocence," said Harry, "but I wouldn't, not without your permission."

"Speaking of my innocence," Snape said, his eyes fixed on Harry's wand, "I don't suppose you could get my wand back from the Ministry of Magic?"

"No chance," Harry said regretfully. "Kingsley Shacklebolt _knows_ you're innocent, he admitted as much, but he's bowing to public demand for a scapegoat."

Snape sighed. "Well, I suppose you'd better have this back," he said, reluctantly holding out Harry's wand.

As Harry reached over to take it, his fingers briefly brushed against Snape's; a feeling like an electric current shocked through him, right down to his toes. He stared wide-eyed at Snape, whose face was unreadable, dark eyes empty. Harry would have thought Snape felt nothing but boredom, were he not certain that the man was Occluding like mad. What was it that he didn't want Harry to see?

~ * ~

"Do you think you'll be able to get all those extra potions ingredients?" Harry asked Hermione, who was poring over Snape's amendments to the parchment.

"Most of these should be okay," Hermione said, "we can probably get them from the Diagon Alley apothecary. But _this_ one -" she laid her finger on the parchment, "- the Snapping Snartwrack essence - I'm not sure where to get any of that, it's really rare."

"I bet Snape had some in his office Potions cupboard at Hogwarts," Harry said. "There's all sorts of weird stuff in there. How about I send Kreacher to have a look?"

"That's a great idea, Harry!" Hermione said enthusiastically. She returned to scanning the parchment, and tutted. "He's changed the method in places as well, look -"

"I should follow his instructions, Hermione," Harry said. "Remember the Half-Blood Prince and his alterations to _Advanced Potion-Making_? They were always an improvement, weren't they?"

Hermione frowned. "They gave you a totally undeserved reputation for brilliance at Potions, you mean," she said waspishly.

"Yeah, well, they wouldn't have done if they hadn't been better than the book, would they?"

"I suppose so," Hermione said reluctantly. "How did he change the parchment without a wand, anyway? He didn't write all this out by hand, surely - not in his condition."

"He borrowed mine," Harry said. He pulled out his wand and looked at it as if he'd never seen it before. "Hermione, I'm wondering whether he put a spell on my wand; something really strange happened when he gave it back."

"I don't think it's possible to cast a spell on a wand using that same wand," Hermione said, "but we can easily check if he did. May I?"

On Harry's nod she took out her own wand and placed its tip against the tip of his.

"Prior Incantato!"

Shadowy writing emerged from Harry's wand and hung in the air in front of them. They just had time to read the words before they thinned and vanished, like smoke blown in the wind.

"Professor Snape's amendments to those potions, nothing more," Hermione said. "So what _did_ happen when he gave you your wand back?"

"Oh - it was just - when I touched his fingers - it was like an electric current ran right through me," Harry said jerkily. "Hey, what are you smirking at?"

But Hermione refused to tell him.

~ * ~

Later that day Harry entered Snape's room, a smoking goblet held carefully in his hands. He proffered it to Snape, who took it and stared suspiciously at its contents.

"Please tell me that Longbottom had no hand in brewing this."

Harry grinned. "Nope. All Hermione's work." He sat down on the end of the bed; Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"We had a bit of trouble getting one of the ingredients," Harry went on, "the Snapping Snartwrack essence, but Kreacher managed to track some down in the end."

"Kreacher?" asked Snape. "Ah yes, your house-elf." He took a cautious sip of the potion. "And where _did_ he find Snapping Snartwrack, might I ask?" He swallowed more potion, and grimaced.

"Erm, well, in your old office at Hogwarts, actually," Harry said apologetically.

" _What!_ " Snape looked furious. "How did that blasted elf manage to bypass my protective spells?"

"Oh - Kreacher's very good at bypassing things, if he really wants to," Harry said.

The fury faded from Snape's face, to be replaced by a dawning hope. He traced his thin lips with a long forefinger, obviously thinking hard. "Soooo... perhaps he might be able to bypass the Aurors' spells... and retrieve my wand from the Ministry of Magic?"

Harry looked doubtful. "I shouldn't think so, but we can ask him, if you like. Kreacher!"

There was a loud _crack_ and the house-elf appeared. Bowing low, he said "You called me, Master Harry?"

"Yeah, Kreacher, we were wondering if you could retrieve Professor Snape's wand from the Ministry of Magic for him; it was confiscated when they sent him to Azkaban, you see. Oh, good job on the Snapping Snartwrack essence, by the way."

But Kreacher was shaking his head. "Kreacher is sorry, Master Harry," he croaked, "the Ministry has defensive spells a poor house-elf cannot hope to unravel."

"You appear to have unravelled the spells on my office Potions cupboard without any difficulty," snapped Snape, draining the goblet and setting down on his bedside table with an emphatic click.

"That was different, Master Snape, sir," protested Kreacher. "Your spells recognised I was there for your benefit. But the Ministry of Magic spells on your wand do not wish to benefit you at all."

"Oh well," Snape said despondently. "That's that, I suppose."

Harry began pleating the edge of the Slytherin-green bedspread between his fingers. Carefully not looking at Snape, he murmured, "There _is_ an alternative..."

~ * ~

"You do know why it's called the Deathstick, don't you, Potter," Snape said dangerously. "You might as well paint a target on my back!"

He'd been ranting like this for some time, ever since Harry's tentative suggestion that Snape forget about his wand locked up in the depths of the Ministry of Magic, and take possession of the Elder Wand instead.

"Look what happened when the Dark Lord even _thought_ I was the master of that confounded wand," Snape went on, clutching convulsively at the bandage around his neck.

"Dumbledore owned that wand for _years_ ," Harry said, "used it brilliantly, too, and it didn't kill _him_ , did it?"

"No, I did that," Snape said bitterly.

"Only because he asked you to!" Harry was indignant. "I saw those memories of yours, remember?"

Snape just scowled at him.

"Anyway, Dumbledore wanted you to end up with the Elder Wand," Harry declared.

"Told you that himself, did he?" Snape sneered sarcastically.

"Um, sort of," Harry replied, remembering 'King's Cross'.

"What do you mean, _sort of_?" demanded Snape.

Seeing no help for it, Harry recounted what had happened after Voldemort hit him with the killing curse in the Forbidden Forest.

"And then I asked Dumbledore if it was real, or just in my head," Harry concluded, "and he said something like: _of course it's in your head, Harry, but that doesn't make it any less real_."

"That certainly sounds like Albus Dumbledore," Snape said. "But even if you should retrieve the wand from his tomb for me, there is, of course, a snag: from your point of view, at least."

"Snag?" Harry said warily.

"Yes, Potter, a snag. I would need to kill you in order for the wand to transfer its allegiance to me."

"No, you wouldn't," Harry contradicted him. "Dumbledore didn't kill Grindelwald to get the Elder Wand's allegiance, did he? He just defeated him in a wizard's duel. Come to that, I didn't kill Draco Malfoy -", he looked briefly regretful, "- I took his hawthorn wand from him at Malfoy Manor, and so the Elder Wand transferred its allegiance from him to me at the same time. And it had become _his_ when he disarmed Dumbledore on top of the Astronomy Tower."

"Very convoluted," observed Snape, with a faint sneer.

"The point is," Harry went on doggedly, "killing someone isn't the only way of conquering them in order to get the Elder Wand."

"In-ter-esting." Snape was now looking at Harry in a way that made him feel hot all over. "In that case, I shall just have to think of a suitable way to... _conquer_... you, shan't I?"

~ * ~

A great tawny owl swooped low over the Hogwarts high table and dropped a scroll neatly in the middle of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's breakfast place setting. She picked it up and read:

_Dear Professor McGonagall,  
I'll be visiting you at Hogwarts in a few days and my favourite teacher insists on coming with me -_

Minerva snorted: this was Potter's idea of subtlety and security, was it?

_\- he says he must consult Dumbledore's portrait. Will it be okay for us to Floo into your office?_  
_Kind regards,_  
_Harry Potter_

Minerva tutted. She glanced along the table at her staff, none of whom were paying her any particular attention, then down at her plate, where Harry Potter's owl was busily stealing a piece of her bacon. Noticing her glare, it hastily swallowed the bacon and gave a low hoot.

"Oh, very well," said Minerva, pulling out a self-inking quill and scribbling a few lines underneath Harry's message, "take this back to your master. And mind you don't get intercepted!"

The owl took the parchment, gave another hoot, and flew away.

~ * ~

Another week went by at number twelve, Grimmmauld Place; a week in which the tension between Snape and Harry reached such a pitch that even the normally unperceptive Ron commented on it.

"What's with you and the greasy git, mate?" he asked Harry one morning, after Harry had just taken Snape his daily gobletful of potion.

Harry fiddled with the empty goblet and didn't reply. His face felt as if it were on fire. Fortunately, Hermione came to his rescue.

"Don't call Professor Snape a greasy git, Ron," she said reprovingly. " _I_ think he's a hero. Not many people could do what he did. Imagine being Dumbledore's spy all those years, and Voldemort not suspecting a thing. None of us could have done that - I know I couldn't." She turned to Harry. "Could you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, of course not. I'm rubbish at Occlumency. But Snape - like Remus Lupin said, he's a really superb Occlumens." Harry broke off, blushing again. There had been times over the past few days when he really, really, would have liked to know what the man was thinking. For instance, when their hands had met on the goblet of potion just now, Snape's black eyes had instantly become unfathomable: dark, empty tunnels without end. What thoughts and emotions was he concealing? Were they the same as Harry's? If only he knew...

"Potter!"

The irritable voice broke in on Harry's thoughts. He looked round, startled, to see a fully dressed Snape standing in the doorway.

"When you've quite finished day-dreaming, Potter. I've decided that I'm now fit enough for that trip to Hogwarts."

~ * ~

Meanwhile, in the headmistress's office at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall was talking to Albus Dumbledore's portrait.

"Am I doing the right thing, Albus?" she asked. "Some would say that I should have alerted the Ministry of Magic after I received Harry Potter's owl, and had Aurors at Hogwarts on standby ready to seize both Severus and Harry as soon as they Floo'd into my office." She glanced over at the fireplace, almost as if she expected it to disgorge them amid a green flare of Floo flames at that very moment. "Instead, I positively encouraged them to come here, _and_ I made sure that my Floo connection is secure."

Dumbledore regarded her solemnly from his portrait. "I think you already know the answer to that, my dear Minerva," he said. "You know as well as I do that Severus is innocent and should never have been sent to Azkaban. I must confess I am disappointed in young Kingsley." He steepled his long fingers and closed his eyes.

"Don't doze off now, Albus!" snapped Minerva. "I need to talk to you. In Harry Potter's owl, he said that Severus wants to consult you - do you have any idea what that is about?"

Dumbledore reopened his eyes. "I have a shrewd idea, Minerva. But there is really no need for me to guess; I think I am about to find out from the man himself." And he nodded in the direction of the fireplace, which had just burst into emerald flames.

Harry Potter emerged from the green fire, coughing and brushing ash from his robes, closely followed by Severus Snape.

"Minerva," the latter said stiffly, with a little nod in her direction. His eyes travelled on to Dumbledore's portrait.

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Severus, my dear man. How good it is to see you. And Harry, too."

Harry gave the portrait a little wave, but spoke to Minerva. "Professor McGonagall, thank you so much for letting us come here. I know it must've been a bit tricky for you, what with him -" he nodded towards Snape, "being wanted by the Ministry of Magic and everything."

Minerva McGonagall's stern face softened. "It's the least I could do in the circumstances, Harry. We all know Severus is innocent, and it was an outrage that he was sent to Azkaban at all. Why, he -"

"I _am_ here, you know, Minerva," Snape interrupted waspishly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Severus. As I was saying, the Wizengamot should have presented you with the Order of Merlin, First Class, not an Azkaban sentence."

This effectively silenced Snape, who looked rather taken aback. Eventually he muttered, "Why, thank you, Minerva."

Dumbledore, who had been watching them benignly from his portrait, now put in, "Minerva, why don't you show Harry the rebuilding work which has taken place since the battle of Hogwarts? Severus and I have things to discuss."

~ * ~

"Some of the gargoyles were irrevocably damaged," Minerva told Harry, pointing up at the roof, "but we were able to repair the rest."

They were standing side by side in the courtyard, where a considerable amount of restoration work had already taken place since the battle of Hogwarts the previous May. Harry tried to feign interest in it, but apparently not very successfully, for Minerva glanced sideways at him and said:

"Is there something on your mind, Harry?"

Harry looked down at his feet and mumbled "Maybe."

"Something to do with Severus, perhaps?" Then, when Harry didn't answer, Minerva went on. "Do _you_ know why he wished to consult Dumbledore's portrait?"

Harry looked at her. "Well, he told me there were two things. And I'm fairly sure that one of them was to do with the Elder Wand."

"And the other?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't know for certain - but I'm hoping - the other was about, well, about _me_."

~ * ~

"Harry was quite right, Severus," Dumbledore was saying. "I did want you to end up in possession of the Elder Wand. I still do."

Snape paced restlessly to and fro in front of Dumbledore's portrait. "But, as I understand it," he said, "the Elder Wand gave its allegiance to Harry Potter - and he returned it to your tomb."

"It still owes its allegiance to him," Dumbledore said serenely, "but if he is willing for the transfer of ownership to take place, can you not think of any means by which this happy event might occur? Short of killing him, of course."

Snape looked into Dumbledore's painted blue eyes; thanking his lucky stars that portraits could not perform Legilimency, he growled roughly, "Oh yes, I can certainly think of a way."

But it appeared that Legilimency was not needed for Dumbledore to understand him. His eyes twinkled as he said, "There is a very comfortable bed in the adjoining room, Severus, and I am sure that Minerva will not begrudge yourself and Harry the use of it."

~ * ~

They left Dumbledore's marble tomb together; Harry had taken the Elder Wand and ceremonially handed it over to Snape. But he didn't quibble when Snape murmured throatily, "I think it might require somewhat... _more_... to transfer this wand's allegiance from you to me, don't you?" and led Harry back to the castle, through the Headmistress' (fortunately empty) study, and into the bedroom beyond. A quick Vanishing spell later, all their clothes were gone.

Staring at Snape's naked body, Harry couldn't help his cock giving an interested twitch. Snape's expression turned predatory; he grabbed Harry's prick, which promptly stiffened in his hand, and stroked its tip, gently but thoroughly, with the Elder Wand.

Harry collapsed onto the bed and mutely held out his arms.

"I think that's enough for now," Snape observed casually, letting the wand dip.

Harry whimpered.

Snape smirked, and slid the wand tip delicately along the swollen vein on the underside of Harry's cock.

Harry couldn't stop shaking. Now the wand was intimately probing his cock slit and he didn't think he could stand much more. He grabbed Snape's wrist and stared up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown. "Make me come, Severus, _please_ ," he begged.

Severus Snape drank in the sight of Harry's pleading face, and raised the Elder Wand. Fountains of gloriously scented oil erupted from it and slid slickly down Harry's cock. Evidently this wasn't the result Snape was expecting. Looking surprised, he dabbled a fingertip in the oil, lifted his finger to his nose, and gave a cautious sniff. His expression instantly became blissful.

A moment later he was kneeling over Harry on the bed, his own cock jutting eagerly towards the still-fountaining wand, which hovered between them, seeming to have a life of its own. Soon he, too, was glistening with oil. His cock, his hands, Harry's cock and the Elder Wand form a slippery, ever-moving sculpture: an artform of erotica.

They came at the same moment, Snape screaming, Harry yelling, and the wand dropping silently onto the bed beside them.

It was the most intense orgasm that Harry had ever had. He wasn't sure which was more responsible: Snape's technique, or the erotically scented, sensation enhancing lube from the Elder Wand. Maybe it was a combination of the two?

Snape, however, seemed to have no doubt that the Elder Wand was responsible for his own amazing climax. "It does seem to retain some residual loyalty to you," he murmured, picking up the wand and rolling it thoughtfully between his long fingers. "Hmmm, maybe I should make certain of its allegiance by, ah, _conquering_ you on a regular basis." He spoke lightly, but glanced at Harry with a slight pucker of doubt between his brows, which promptly disappeared at Harry's enthusiastic response.

"Oh _yes_ , Severus, that would be AWESOME!"

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [LiveJournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3909553.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1836169.html), or [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1168058.html).


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